


Happy Times

by ATeirney



Series: Evelyn 'Evie' Davids [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Dogmeat is a Good Boy, F/M, Implied Relationships, dog cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23641240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATeirney/pseuds/ATeirney
Summary: Evelyn copes with the loss of her place in Vault 101.An exploration of dynamics between the Lone Wanderer and Butch Deloria
Relationships: Butch DeLoria/Female Lone Wanderer
Series: Evelyn 'Evie' Davids [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806403
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Happy Times

The metal walls of Megaton creaked and groaned from the storm outside, too stubborn to be drowned out by the trickling jazz from her pipboy. Evie laid in bed, staring up at the rusted ceiling as ‘Happy Times’ drifted through the room. Nights like this the teetering house always managed to surprise her with its acoustics. She could hear Wadsworth trundling along downstairs, the steady chug and wheeze of his parts an ever-present reminder of his presence. Dogmeat had found his way onto the bed with her, curled into a ball by her side and practically pushing her off. Not that she minded, the brush of rough fur helping to ease the loneliness that had permeated her little home.

Old relics from Vault-Tec littered the space, decorations that began as a comfort swiftly becoming a ghost that loomed over her life. She missed it, the vault, even though she knew any claim to that home had been torn from her the night she left. Any hope she had of retaining that had been further stamped out by Amata’s apologetic look.

_‘I’m sorry. You’re a hero… and you have to leave.’_

She was right, of course. Over half the vault still blamed her and her father for everything falling to pieces in the first place. It had been foolish to think that solving everything peacefully would erase that, she had only cleaned up her own mess as far as they were concerned. Stitches to an open wound she had cut into the heart of the vault; the scar would remain.

Still, it had helped a little to know not everyone hated her. Mr. Brotch and Officer Gomez had soothed that burn some, knowing they didn’t hold her or James at fault for it all. Just the way the cards fell. And Butch had made her feel better, in his own way. Amata never really understood the two of them, how Evelyn forgave the boy’s transgressions so easily, brushing it aside like nothing had happened. She had called her too soft, told her to stop letting people walk all over her. But she’d never let Butch do that, not really. The two of them had an unspoken agreement between them. He pulled his punches and she hit back, if she told him to knock it off, he’d make a fuss but find away to shut it down while keeping his pride intact.

James had been the only one to see their relationship for what it was, silent comfort and camaraderie. He had been the one to help her see what was really going on in the first place, holding her on his lap as she cried about Butch sticking gum in her hair and the resulting too-short haircut.

_‘Sometimes boys do stupid things when they don’t know how to talk to someone. They lash out and act mean, because they don’t understand. Now I’m not saying you should let him get away with anything, stand up for yourself. But try not to hold onto it too much, the boy has it harder than most.’_

She hadn’t grown her hair out again after that, and she’d started paying more attention. There was a decided difference in how Butch would pick on her compared to the others. He was nothing like Wally, who was just mean for the sake of mean and actually frightened her. He would tease and taunt, and they got into a few scrapes, but only when there were other people around. When it was just her and Amata he would keep it at blocking her path or calling her names. It would escalate to tripping her or threats when the other Tunnel Snakes were there, but it never came to blows unless she baited him. And sometimes she did just to make him feel better.

Then there were the rare moments when it was just them, no adults, no friends, no one to keep up appearances for. In those moments there was no animosity, and the dynamic changed. He got quiet, watched her with careful eyes as she went about her business and made small talk, sometimes he even cracked a smile at one of her lame jokes. Nosebleed shifted from cruel and bitter to something said with a hint of affection. Times like that they were almost friends.

His mother had never paid much attention to his antics and Evelyn saw that it hurt him, heard his stomach growl in class, watched him turn into an adult to parent Ellen after one of her benders. She started packing more than she needed at lunch, slipping him a meal under the guise of him stealing it from her. After the GOAT she started getting haircuts more often, enjoying the quiet companionship that came with him massaging shampoo into her scalp and carefully arranging her hair. He was always gentle with her at work, something he could pass off as doing his job, and she’d often end up pouring out her complaints about her own job. Being the only counselor was hard, mending minds and hearts instead of broken bones like her father, but getting her hair done helped. If only because Butch was there to listen without a word of judgement.

He’d changed last they saw each other, his eyes sunken and tired, thin, with a five o’clock shadow he never would have tolerated before. He still sent barbs at her around the others, but they’d grown weak, a shadow of routine rather than any real attempt at posturing. It was hard to imagine him in the wasteland but maybe it was for the best that he wanted to go, the vault had been killing him slowly, and more than once she had worried of him turning out like his mother. But when all was said and done, he’d offered a smirk and shaken his head, hiding a smile just for her in his eyes.

_‘See you topside, Nosebleed.’_

She ran her thumb over the cuff of his old jacket, basking in the softness of the treated leather. It reminded her of home, and she had yet to be seen without it in public. The idea made her smile, hopeful that she might see her not-quite friend one of these days, one last solid connection to the past that was slowly dying around her. Tugging her Tunnel Snakes jacket tighter around her, she turned to her side and pulled Dogmeat to her chest, letting Bob Crosby’s crooning lull her to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my first Fallout fic but the first one with these characters, wanted to play with the dynamic between Butch and Evie a bit.


End file.
